


better than coffee

by lonniek



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Domme Lydia Martin, F/F, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 21:30:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5981554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonniek/pseuds/lonniek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erica isn't a morning person, but if this could be her routine every morning, it would probably help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	better than coffee

It’s because they’re teaching Erica how to be a better morning person that it happens. Lydia turns over in bed one night, runs her hand down Erica’s thigh and lets it rest with no intent in the dip of her hip. Erica hums and wriggles backward until her bare back bumps up against Lydia’s breasts.

“We’re going to get up at 6:30 tomorrow,” Lydia tells her, pressing a kiss against Erica’s temple. Allison titters down by Erica’s stomach where she’s curled up on her side as Erica huffs. But she knows better than to argue.

“Fine,” she grumbles, tangling her fingers into Allison’s. Lydia knows how to push her buttons. A soft hand on her thigh, quiet lips in her ear, and Erica knows she’ll say yes to anything Lydia tells her (of course, when Lydia puts on her Voice Erica wants nothing more than to drop to her knees, but it’s equally as titillating when she does it the soft way).

“If you wake up in a good mood,” Lydia purrs, cocking her hip to slide her thigh over Erica’s leg. She pillows her head on Erica’s shoulder, hair pooling underneath them. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

The alarm clock goes off promptly at 6:30, which is only for Erica’s benefit. Allison is always coming back from her morning run around this time, and Lydia’s always ready for her with a glass of juice on the counter while she sips her coffee. This time, there’s another glass on the counter for Erica, and she tries to manage a smile when she swallows it down without really tasting it. Apple, white grape, something. It’s sticky sweet and makes Erica want to brush her teeth. She looks longingly at the steaming mug of coffee that Lydia’s drinking and must make some kind of pitiful sound, because Lydia chuckles at her and rolls her eyes.

“No coffee for you today. Get dressed; we’re going out.” Lydia’s tone leaves no room for argument, and instantly Erica’s more alert. Lydia watches Erica perk up as she walks briskly back into the bedroom, the way that her calf muscles spring into action when she knows she’s expected to move quickly. Lydia finishes her coffee, and Erica and Allison emerge from the bedroom at the same time, holding hands and brushing against each other. Allison is all smiles and eagerness, and Erica, try as she might, is still struggling to find that same inner happiness at having to be up before the sun is done rising. Lydia crosses the hallway, takes her girlfriends’ hands and kisses them both softly on the lips, brushing over their cheeks with her fingertips and cooing about how much she loves them. They melt into her touches, and when Lydia pulls away, straightens her back and leads them to the front door, Allison and Erica fall into a quiet, serene line behind her.

Which is how they end up at the park at 7:00 on a Thursday morning, hidden behind three rose bushes and a well-placed decorative statue of Prometheus bringing fire to man. Lydia has one hand curled around Allison’s wrist, pinning it above her head against the cold metal of Prometheus’ outstretched arm and slotting a thigh between her legs. Allison gasps and pushes her hips down to roll against Lydia’s thigh exactly one time before Lydia turns a raised brow on her. “Did I say you could move?” Lydia chides, letting go of Allison’s arm and reaching to tug loose the scarf around her neck. The material is soft and fluttery, made for the promise of warmer weather later. Lydia wraps it around her hand, toying with it while Allison watches.

“No, Lydia,” Allison answers, with a hint of shame coloring her voice. She looks down, but Lydia tuts and Allison meets her eyes again.

“I know you get nervous when you think other people are watching you. But that’s no reason to move out of turn. I thought we’d been doing better than that. Pity,” she muses, threading the scarf through Prometheus’ fingers. “Hands,” Lydia instructs, and Allison raises her arms so that Lydia can bind them. Trussed up, Allison looks blissful. The worry lines in her forehead about being seen as people wander by disappear, and she focuses on where she is, who she’s with. When Allison opens her eyes, Lydia’s kissing Erica, one hand up her skirt and moving in quick pulses that mean Lydia’s got three fingers inside of Erica and has challenged her not to come.

Erica’s whole body is wire-tight while Lydia’s hand moves. Her chest heaves with heavy breaths and unvocalized moans. She bites her lip, and Allison watches Erica lick away a drop of blood from where her desire to be obedient, to follow the command not to get caught, is all-consuming.

“Lydia, please,” Erica whispers, and her voice is trembling like her thighs while she curls her hands into fists and lifts up her leg to change the angle of Lydia’s fingers inside of her.

“Lydia, please,” Lydia mimics, just as breathy while she winks. “You’re always so hot for this, Erica. You beg me to fuck you in public all the time, but now you want it to be over?” Lydia pulls her fingers out of Erica with no warning, and Erica growls, tries not to scream and slam her first against the statue in frustration. Allison’s fingers extend unconsciously to touch, to soothe the need while Erica waits, but when her restraints stop her, Allison sighs, too. Lydia hears it. She hears everything.

“Are you frustrated, too, Ally?” Lydia asks with a teasing pout on her lips. Allison shudders and Lydia hasn’t even touched her but she feels her cunt pulse, feels how wet she is and is so glad Erica convinced her to wear her summer dress without underwear. Lydia knows that Allison loves when she calls her Ally, knows that as soon as Lydia asks what _her little Ally Cat_  is willing to do for her, Allison will break with all of the suggestions that come tumbling down. “What can I do for my poor, little Ally Cat?” Allison whimpers, and Lydia’s hands are on her thighs, sliding up her dress, cold fingertips and hot hands and then Lydia’s thumb knuckle is against her clit and Allison can’t think.

“Oh, my god,” Allison whines, her toes curling while her hands grip tight to Lydia’s scarf.

“You know, I think I know just the thing,” Lydia says, beckons Erica with her free hand and rocks up onto her toes so she can whisper into Allison’s ear. “Do you want Erica’s mouth on you? Do you want to feel her tongue inside of you, feel her fingers press up against your g-spot and know that you can’t say a single thing because then people might hear you?” Allison nods as hard as she can, and Lydia shushes her, presses a tender kiss to her lips and trails her hand back down Allison’s thighs until they’re not touching anymore, and Erica and Allison are staring at Lydia, waiting. “Are you sure you can be quiet like a good girl?” Lydia asks. “We all know Erica knows how to turn you into a screamer.”

“I can do it, Lydia, I promise. Please, please, let her touch me. I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet I swear.” Lydia raises an eyebrow, but nods and turns to Erica.

“I want you to make her scream,” Lydia says, her hands on Erica’s hips while she pulls her close and hikes up Erica’s skirt. At first, she cowers at the exposure, but the surprise passes quickly and gives way to a newfound excitement that cuts through the last of the sleepiness in Erica’s body. “Make someone come and find us.” With a swat to Erica’s bare ass, Lydia steps out of the way, watches Allison stand on her toes so she can plant her foot on the base of the statue and all Erica has to do is bend at the waist to run her lips up the slit of Allison’s cunt. They come away slippery and wet, and Erica licks her lips, shoves the fabric of Allison’s dress up her legs, and buries her face between Allison’s thighs.

Erica likes to eat Allison out and make her come apart in layers. She peppers hot, open mouthed kisses to Allison’s clit, sucking it between her lips and flickering her tongue over the tip of it. Allison, to her credit, squeaks behind her lips pressed together, bucks her hips up and sways against her restraints, but doesn’t make any other noise. Her eyes are closed, though, and Lydia sees the first hint of tears clinging to her eyelashes. _Good_ , she thinks, _a challenge_.

When Erica pushes two fingers into Allison and starts to fuck Allison with them like she watched Lydia fuck Erica, Allison knows she’s lost. She shakes her head and presses her lips together harder, feels the blood pumping between them and under her skin. The statue behind her is starting to get slippery from where she’s sweating through her dress, and her arms are sore and tired and heavy above her head from clinging to the scarf for purchase, and her entire body is one constant tremor. When Allison opens her eyes and looks to Lydia for permission to come, to beg, to _something_ , Lydia tuts at her and shakes her head. Allison drops her head back and lets out one long sob that makes her and Erica freeze. Allison’s head whips up and she jerks it around, remembering belatedly that they’re only slightly secluded.

Erica freezes because she knows she’s won. She redoubles her efforts when she feels Allison go slack above her, rolling her fingers upward while her tongue vibrates against Allison’s clit. Erica’s fingers are a slippery mess, and she pulls them out of Allison for a moment to suck them clean and a little drier before pushing right back in while Allison groans at the quick hard drag of Erica’s fingers in her cunt.

“Fuck!” Allison yells, frustrated and needy. “Fuck, Lydia, Erica, _please_ ,” she says, hoarse and desperate and edging toward hysteria. Her eyes are open, darting around, but don’t settle on anything.

“Breathe, baby,” Lydia tells her, and the voice is distinctly closer to Erica than she remembers it being. Erica feels Lydia’s fingers teasing her, locks her legs and arches her back in preparation. “You know, Allison, I can make Erica fall apart just like she’s going to you.” Erica shivers, but nobody doubts this truth. “But the best news is that you get to come and she doesn’t. Want to see?” Allison nods vehemently, the promise of orgasm tethering her to reality again. Erica starts to lift her head up and ask why she doesn’t get to come, but then Lydia is pushing the head of Erica’s favorite dildo (the green and purple glass one with ridges down the sides) into her, and it’s definitely not her fingers and it’s _definitely_ not what Erica is expecting. She muffles an almost scream by biting down on the soft flesh of Allison’s inner thigh, which makes Allison _actually_  scream, and then she’s coming, and Erica’s tongue is back on her, kissing and licking her through her orgasm while Lydia fucks her from behind.

Lydia angles the dildo to press up against her g-spot every time Erica pushes back to meet her, holding onto Allison’s thighs for balance with her head dropped down between her shoulders, whimpering and begging to get to come over and over again until her orgasm is _right there_ , and Lydia stops. Slowly, ridge by ridge, Lydia removes the dildo, and Erica jumps at each loss. Her face is red and there are tears in her eyes when she drops to her knees in front of Lydia, right there in the grass, and presses her head against Lydia’s calf. Lydia drops the dildo back into her purse and strokes Erica’s hair for a moment before untying Allison. She drapes the scarf back around her neck and runs her hands down Allison’s back in long, soft passes until Allison nuzzles down into Lydia’s neck and asks to sit. Lydia leans against the statue and Allison does the same, leaving space between her and Lydia for Erica to settle between them.

Erica watches Lydia and Allison with tense, hungry eyes, looks almost hurt at how much her body still screams for release. But Lydia shakes her head, kisses Erica on the forehead and tells her, “maybe this will help you learn to not be so grumpy in the morning.”

It’s a lesson that proves to be most effective.


End file.
